


sanctuary of sins

by ginandfrolic



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Clothed Sex, Come Marking, Come Shot, Comeplay, Comfort, Consensual Somnophilia, Cunnilingus, Dominant Boba Fett, Established Relationship, F/M, Finger Sucking, Masturbation, Naked Female Clothed Male, Oral Sex, POV Second Person, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Reader-Insert, Short & Sweet, Short One Shot, Smut, Somnophilia, Teasing, Thighs, Vaginal Fingering, Voyeurism, Wet Dream, Woman on Top, thigh kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-16 04:55:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28950759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginandfrolic/pseuds/ginandfrolic
Summary: This is a series of short works, with each chapter being a new one-shot and staying within the realm of The Mandalorian (though some iterations of Boba Fett are from the original trilogy). For now. (I have a serious daddy fetish for General Hux, but that's on the backburner.)I may be open to requests in the near future. I will let you know.So, without digressing further... enjoy, my dears. <3
Relationships: Boba Fett & Reader, Boba Fett & You, Boba Fett/Reader
Comments: 17
Kudos: 91





	1. think of me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boba Fett eats some cake before going to work. ;) ;)

It had been a long time since you had your last wet dream, and you greeted it happily; floating in the clouds between the dimensions of slumber and life. Everything in this dreamscape felt warm and golden and soft, like the honey dripping from your cunt as you lay there in bed that morning. 

A sigh escaped your lips as a firm muscle flexed into you; taking slow, languid laps of the nectar nestled between your wet petals, consuming you wholly. The sensation was paralyzing, leaving your body to melt into the pillows.

Oh, but this was not a dream after all.

Boba Fett had you by the thighs, pulling you in closer, murmuring sweet nothings into your pussy, about how delicious you tasted, how delightfully wet you were for him all over his selfish lips, how it was all his to enjoy.

“ _Yes_ ,” you moaned, arching your body and canting your hips towards the sunshine on your skin. It grew warmer with each pass of his drenched tongue on your swollen clit until it grew blazing hot and untamed like a wildfire on the hottest day of the summer.

“Do you want to cum, sweet girl?” he asks, his voice husky and guttural; its baritone vibrating on your folds. You nodded as you watched Boba’s tongue flick and tease your clit before he slowly sunk a thick finger inside you. The lewd sound of your wetness made you blush, and your hips squirmed against his face as he introduced a second finger, your cunt stretching to welcome him. The moment he curled his fingers inside and began coaxing your ruin, you knew you were done for and let yourself fly. Your cunt squeezed his fingers as cascading pleasure unfurled and bloomed deep within you; Boba’s greedy tongue never ceasing to suck and pull the rest of your orgasm out through your flushed bud.

As you drowned in the afterglow, you mumbled something incoherent as your cunt was still pulsing wet and hot. Your eyes flickered open; vision falling on the sight of Boba Fett between your legs, who was tasting the resolve that gushed onto your inner thighs. If you hadn’t already come undone, observing this alone would have done you in. 

Boba began to free himself from his pants. He let out a sigh when he grasped his hardened cock and began jerking himself off slowly in front of you, thrusting his hips into his hand. If you weren’t already falling into your post-orgasm stupor, you would happily be servicing his large cock on your knees with your mouth. Instead, you bit your lip and blushed as he stared at you, putting on this filthy show as he knelt between your parted legs. Some instinct told you he wanted to put his strong muscles, tendons and scarred flesh on display just for you. You pulled his free hand towards you; inviting its rough edges to grope and knead at your breast and whimpered when he rolled your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

The muscles in his abdomen flexed and contracted; his breaths became raspy and desperate as he neared his own release. His hips stuttered as he palmed his pulsating cock, and beads of sweat glistened and flowed in the tracts of the deep scars on his heaving chest. With his finger, he frantically pried open the panties still clinging onto your thighs, and groaned deeply as his balls tightened flush up to his body. He shot thick ropes of cum inside your panties, the residual fluid splattering onto your lips. He climbed over you to pull the panties snug up on your hips and massaged your cunt through the wet fabric, smearing his warm seed all over your skin in the process. He thumbed your overstimulated clit before descending the bed and placing his helmet back on.

“Something to remind you of me while I’m gone, little one.”


	2. homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a lil' something I started on Valentine's Day -- a smutty rendezvous with Boba Fett.
> 
> I realized chapters one and two seem chronological, but they're not. 
> 
> These will be one-shots, and I may be interested in requests (I am currently working on one already that I read in the comments of my first chapter).
> 
> Hope you're having a good week. <3

“What if you didn’t come back?” 

The bones in your ribcage rattled with your voice as you whispered into Boba Fett’s cowl on the night of his homecoming. As you waited day by day for him to return from a quarry, the thought of losing him forever began to plague your nightmares. The both of you lay together now with legs intertwined like ivy, his battered armor occupying the bed that sagged beneath the both of you. The hard beskar pressed into your side as you clung to him desperately as though he would suddenly disappear.  


He stared at the ceiling while idly combing gloved fingers through your hair. In Boba’s prolonged silence, your throat tightened, and bitter tears threaten to leak from your eyes when you began doubting your value to him – had he even thought about how you would be forsaken on this goddamn planet, about how you would just be a tiny grain of sand without him? 

The dam breached; tears precipitating down your face like an unforeseen midsummer storm, but the sudden warmth seeping into his shirt did not go unnoticed. 

“What is it?” he asked, sitting up to look at you. You shut your eyes tightly to cage the rest of the tears and shook your head at him, whining something pathetic and broken. “Hmm? Speak up.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you responded weakly.

Boba shifted his body on its side, propping himself on an elbow to face you. “You won’t,” he assured as he tucked a stray hair behind your ear, knowing full well that nothing in the galaxy would try to end him and live to see the end of day.

“I don’t think you understand,” you strained, veiling the truth, the adoration for him – but locked the secrets in your tears. “I… I can’t go on without you.”

Boba drew out a long breath through his nose, the sound of it crackling under his helmet as he tried to understand the weight of your sentiments. “But I’m here now. Dry your tears, little bird.” He brushed your cheek with the back of his hand, absorbing the tears into his glove.

“I missed our nights together,” you sighed.

He ran a thumb over your cheekbone, dragging through the salty tearstains there and tempering your anxious soul. 

“Were you lonely?” 

“Yes,” you whispered. 

His hand traced your upper arm and dipped in the valley of your waist before pausing on your hip, giving the curve of it a reassuring squeeze. “No one here to keep you company,” he murmured under his helmet. “Isn’t that right?”

Shivering at the timbre of his voice, you nodded meekly.

“Answer me.”

“R-right…”

“Do you think about me when I’m gone?” he rumbled, his voice becoming throaty and hoarse as his grip tightened on you. 

“Of course,” you replied, pressing your forehead to his cuirass.

“Touch yourself in my name?”

The heat of a thousand suns prickled under your cheeks; you buried your face into the pillow to conceal your embarrassment.

“Look at me. Tell me.”

“Yes,” you admitted, shame pooling in your veins. 

“Hmm.” He sounded curious; pleased, dare you say.

Boba placed a hand on your shoulder and rolled you onto your back. “Do you want me to touch you?” he asked hungrily, watching how you shuddered at his lustful tone and brought your bottom lip between your teeth. Surely, you would combust if he didn’t touch you – and _soon_.

“ _Stars_ , yes,” you sighed.

In an agonizing pace, a hand slid under your shirt and ambled up your sternum, leaving flames in its wake as his touch came to a standstill in the valley between your breasts. 

“Like this?”

He drew a circle around your pert nipple and chuckled when you squirmed under his hand. A pitiful _mhmm_ escaped you as your spine arched, and you pressed into his palm to offer yourself as his to claim. Boba’s advances were like an unhurried stroll through a quiet garden though; they drew a restless ache deep beyond your petals and rooted within as his hand skimmed the plane of your chest, brushing over the soft flesh there and rolling a nipple between his fingers. That ache bloomed and quivered as your core radiated for him, desperate to consume more of his warmth, a flower reaching for the sun. 

And without him, you would surely wither away.

Your fingers enveloped his hand in a fervent endeavor to push him closer to where you so badly needed to feel him. His hand clenched as he resisted, pulling free from your grasp and pinning your wrist down above the pillow under your head.

“Patience, little one,” he chided.

Boba’s free hand burrowed shallowly under the waistband of your pants, your heart jolting with anticipation at the intrusion. Then cruelly, he retracted his hand and huffed with amusement as you whimpered; instead sliding his palm past your stomach and cupping the plush mounds on your chest. 

This man was going to be the death of you.

He continued his explorations as his gaze bored into you through his helmet, noting at how the intimate areas of your body were steadily glowing in his thermal sensor while you sighed and moaned his name. He wedged his hand between the thick of your legs, grabbing at the pliant flesh there and withdrew it when you wiggled your hips to bring friction between your thighs.

“Why are you so mean?” you pouted.

“Hey,” he scolded. “Be patient or I’ll stop.”

Damn him. Despite being apart for so long, the bounty hunter still had the audacity and the self-restraint to play with his food. 

“Can you at least take your gloves off?”

“So demanding,” Boba sighed exasperatedly, but you were blind to the smirk that danced on his lips under that helmet when he complied, letting go of your wrist to cast the gloves aside. He dragged the liberated skin under your shirt, the rough edges and scars and callouses catching on your softness. The contact was heavenly, your eyes fluttering shut at the sheer heat of him. His fingers outlined the lower curves of you, clutched the edge of your waistband, and started rolling your pants down. You raised your hips and began assisting him, but he quickly seized you by the wrists to stop you.

“No.”

He sat up on his knees to pull off your pants the remainder of the way, throwing it aside and paused momentarily to consume the sight of you before him. There was something so indisputably arousing about Boba Fett between your legs, clad in dirty, sweaty clothes and armor as his shielded gaze ensnared you. One of his knees was positioned so close to your cunt; surely, he could feel it burning wet for him through your panties. 

And at this point, you could probably ride yourself to reckless rapture on the meat of his thick thigh, if he let you.

A breath drifted away from you the moment a pair of broad fingers weaseled through your underwear. They glided lazily between your folds, gathering the glistening dew there and dragging the warmth of it over your swollen clit; a relieved sigh tumbling from your tongue as he did so. Boba cursed under his breath as blood rushed to his cock, hardening just for you.

“You’re dripping wet,” he groaned. He was aware of how badly he needed you too; it wasn’t enough to milk himself dry from the captain’s seat in the cockpit of _Slave I_ every damn night he was away from you. With a hand around his cock, he imagined your head buried between his thighs while travelling between quarries, a geyser of filth erupting upon his armor as he gasped your name into his helmet. “I thought about you every day,” he murmured as his hand loitered on the mound above your drenched core.

“Me too,” you confided. 

His palm slid lower again, brushing against your aching clit as he sunk a finger, then a second, in your pussy. The sound of your arousal falling onto your ears was obscene, and his idle thrusts weren’t enough to tide you over, you needed more, slanting your hips in such a way to pull his fingers deeper into the storm. You squealed the moment he curled his fingers inside, then whimpered when you were abandoned. 

Boba withdrew his fingers from your underwear and butted them against your lips, forcing them inside your mouth when you relaxed your jaw. “Look at me,” he commanded. You obeyed, trying to set your eyes somewhere beyond the inky black visor and lapped at your own juices. He groaned at how eagerly you sucked on his fingers, his erection growing painful.

“ _Please_ , Boba, I need you…”

“What a sweet girl, asking so nicely,” he praised. 

_Maker_ , you would do anything for him if he would just talk to you like _that_ for eternity.

He made quick work of removing his codpiece, tossing it aside unceremoniously and making it clatter on the floor. He took no formalities in properly undressing, instead unfastening his pants to emancipate his thick, aching erection. He grabbed you by the middle, turning you away from him and bringing you to hands and knees with a firm hand on your back. He brought his throbbing length into his hand, guiding it over your soaked underwear before thumbing the thin layer of fabric and pulling it past your ass. You couldn’t suppress the moan that escaped you when the velvety crown pressed into your folds; your slick lubricating all the delicious ridges and curves of him. 

“Boba, wait—” you interjected, halting him in spite of your desperation.

“Hmm?” he grumbled in irritation. “What?”

“I… um… I want to try something,” you suggested gently, turning to face him. The heavy gaze of his visor burned into you as he waited for you to continue, practicing the utmost self-control. Boba did not resist when your gripped his pauldrons nervously to steer him onto his back; his tarnished helmet tilting in curiosity as you usurped him. He tucked his arms behind his helmet and laid leisurely on the pillow, anticipating your next move with intrigue and wonder.

Placing a palm on his cuirass to steady yourself, you mounted him and relaxed your legs over his hips, straddling his well-muscled thighs. His hands dwarfed the handles of your curves as he kept you seated there; helmet perfectly still as he stared at you.

“Take your shirt off.”

Your heart was absolutely racing now; its pulse galloping like a wild mare through your throat and in your ear drums. Bringing your hands to the hem of your shirt, you peeled it off and displayed yourself to him. The helmet cocked sideways against the pillow – it was a compliment, as if he were silently admiring you from different perspective.

Using your hand to grasp the base of his cock, you slowly sunk down onto his thickness, your cunt coaxing him inside easily – and whatever sound Boba made beneath you, it sounded like someone had struck him in the solar plexus.

“W-what—” you stuttered. “Are you okay?”

“You’re— _shit_ —so tight,” he hissed. His grip on you was probably enough to shatter your pelvis into a thousand pieces. 

You smiled weakly at him, sighing as you settled around his girth. It burned a little; your body novice to his after a fortnight apart, and this position breached the limits of how much your pussy could stretch for him. He grabbed a handful of your ass; hips bucking up into you impatiently.

“Hey!” you scolded. “Be patient or I’ll stop.” 

Boba did not argue; instead sighing heavily and cursing inside his mind at your nerve to fuel his own words against him. 

Slowly, you rocked your hips forward to test the waters, feeling how Boba pushed back like a gentle tide. Ecstasy soared through you at the way his cock filled every inch of you, and a tiny gasp fell from your parted lips when he began to thrust deeper. Flames and blood prickled beneath the flushed skin on your chest, making it burn brilliantly as you rode him to your ruin.

“ _Shit_ ,” he croaked, voice stifled by his helmet. “Y-you’re—” 

You clung to him for dear life, grabbing and pulling at his sleeves. Your thighs began to tire and ache, but you continued to flex into him, bury him further into that sweet spot until a warm and fiery presence licked you from the inside. “Boba, I—” you panted as he pummeled into the same spot relentlessly, making the muscles within your pelvis shudder. “Please, don’t— _ah_ —” 

“Don’t _what_?” 

“ _Don’t stop_ ,” you begged.

Boba swore under his breath; he knew you were going to cum – and soon, he felt your pussy clenching tight around his cock; impossibly wet, begging to be razed with how it fluttered dangerously around the edges. It spurred something desperate within himself, and so he steadied the cadence of his breath. But with the way his name billowed into the air like a prayer as your body completely unfurled open for him, all efforts were in vain.

“Sweet girl,” he gasped. “So wet for me. Cum on my cock, princess.”

He sat up in the bed to meet you in the eye of the storm: he drove a couple fingers around your swollen, pulsing clit, urging something so devastatingly beautiful and sinful all the same, his muffled voice ragged and broken in your ear. With the last few thrusts of his pelvis, your spine grew rigid and your cunt gave way as you cried out and gushed for him, bliss erupting through every inch of your skin. Not a moment later and Boba was locking his hips in place as he groaned your name, filling your pussy to the brim with warm ropes of cum, marking his stake there. Like a mere pile of flotsam, you collapsed on top of his cuirass and savored the cool material on your blazing cheek as his cock twitched inside you, utterly spent. 

“Stay with me,” you murmured. “Can you stay this week?”

He hummed in thought momentarily, considering your suggestion. 

“As you wish.”


End file.
